


Mistletoe, wolfsbane and everything else

by gemnosha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemnosha/pseuds/gemnosha
Summary: Scott McCall is the true Alpha. Impenetrable, undefeatable and very, very, very and irrefutably anxious about this new development. However, this isn't the first time Scott has needed help with his werewolf capabilities and inhibitions. Just like before, Stiles Stilinski, his best friend, is there to help him.Ortwo times Scott nearly kissed Stiles, and the one time he did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry.
> 
> also it's very quick and unedited, just something that needed out of my system and fast.

He was stuck in the school parking lot, standing beside his motorbike. Scott's eyes touch the bottom brims of his brows, eyes bulging and speculating the dark and grotesque shape that followed him. His own shadow, as tall as skyscraper, dragging its own claws against the cement, lurking right behind him as if it were waiting to take over his body. He blinked once, ten twice, or three and four and five. But, nothing. The shadow wolf stood on its hind legs and stretched beyond the length of the entire parking lot. Something tugged at his chest, it was loud- painful. _Was that his heart?_ No, it was the beast inside of him. He dropped his eyes down to look at his hands. He had cut into the tough skin of his palms. Somewhere along the way he managed to extend his claws just far enough to turn a normal agitated clenching fist into a suicidal weapon of self-destruction. 

"Yo' Scott!" _Stiles_ The pain in his chest dropped and dissipated immediately like it was nothing but a piece of marshmallow he had failed to swallow at first. He blinked at the sight of blood spewing from his hands, and then... nothing as well. There was no blood, no scar, no claws. The shadow wolf itself had morphed back into the delicate and fairly unsupernatural shadow of Scott McCall. Suddenly, a firm hand slapped his shoulder, squeezed at him tightly. "Hey, man. I got your text about the whole Alpha werewolf anxiety you've been feeling. What do you say, some good ol' training after school?" Scott blinked back into reality. And, note to self: _stop blinking, you look stupid._

"Definitely."

**One**

"Okay, now remember." Stiles recited, "I'm going to swing you with the bat right in the stomach and you deal with it."

"What if I hurt yo-

"You won't." Stiles was serious. Scott could smell it. He answered swift and short, sure of himself. Sure of Scott. They swallowed synchronically. Scott's eyes were piercing holes into Stiles' but he didn't notice, he just kept thinking: _Don't hurt him, you'll never forgive yourself, don't hurt him, you'll never live with yourself..._ Bang. The bat flew sliced the air and wakced right into Scott's chest. Scott flung forward, a grunt as load as a roar rose from his parting lips. Stiles scrunched all his muscles together, internally aching at the idea of having to do that again. 

"Are you okay, Scott?" A moment of silence.

"Again."

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked, swinging the bat between his two hands. Scott lifted his head, eyes as red as blood, and claws as sharp as knives.

"Again!" His voice was firm, demanding, dark. A snarl, and a command that made Stiles body fall into a small concaving shape of despair. _Bang!_

The bat was caught and slapped against the palm of Scott's hand, then thrown to the side. Stiles gulped. He felt nails curl against his neck and spine, and then he felt air. It was fast, and all he could honestly see were the glowing eyes of his alpha. Scott had grabbed his best friend by throat and pressed him against the wall he was just before waiting against. He held his claw beneath Stiles' chin, and pressed his fangs on the edges of his jaw. Too close for comfort, too far for fairness. Stiles felt the low vibrating growl against his cheek. 

"Sc- 

He didn't try again, when he spoke Scott gripped tighter on his throat.

"You smell strange," Scott hissed, breathing in Stiles. 

"Thanks buddy, but you're- 

Again, he tightened his fist. 

"Hurting me."

Scott's eyes flashed between red and hazel. A look of worry and dominance balanced its way back. Until finally, Scott's jaw, lopsided, dropped and he began to apologize.

That was the start.

**Two**

A week has passed. Shadow wolves have hunted and yanked at the back of Scott's back since the becoming of an alpha, and Scott and Stiles still struggled week-ends and week-beginnings to find a solution. By now, Scott's chest is marked and bruised by bat swings, car wrecks, cliff dives and even an attempt gang fight- Scott persuaded Stiles otherwise on that last one- and for what it's worth: Scott has battled away his ability to heal with the mere mocking sensation of werewolf anxiety. 

The night was kissing the horizon, a half moon peeking out in all its silver glory from the edge of the sky. Scott had his fingers laced and tucked behind his head as he lay flat against Stiles' bed headboard. They had decided to stay at Stiles' for the weekend, like they used to do, and just like they used to Stiles was finger deep in papers of 

"I'm starving," Scott sighed, smiling unwillingly when Stiles popped his sleepy head from its previous static position, a marker tucked between his lips and a highlighted page in his palms. 

"Hi, starving, I'm trying to help," he spat out the marker, half of his words swelled with the drool backing up in his cheeks. Scott rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Maybe we should have some pancakes." 

Scott jumped up from his relaxed pace, his eyes jolting into a red fixation, glowing with joy. 

"Okay, there, puppy. Keep it under control."

"I can't, that's why we're here."

_Oh._

**Two and a half moments later...**

It was a mess, a bad idea, a silly notion. On the ceiling fan, pancake mix was still circling with the air, batter had plastered onto the tiles of the walls. On the apron Stiles hopefully wore to armor him from the expected mess, was a hole that had cut wider as the event carried on. Amidst it all, two young boys towering over one plate of pancake batter, useless but still somewhat delicious. Scott scooped a large heap of it into his fingers, and tried to lick it off. 

" 'Scuse me, you took everything.'' 

Scott grinned at Stiles voice, his insulted disbelief hovering just a few centimeters away from Scott's ear. 

"Fine, you have it," He chuckled, holding his fingers away from Stiles' mouth in a gesture: _take from my hands, beta._ Stiles watched him over, inspecting just how serious he was. Scott was still grinning, and more like a child than an alpha. Stiles smirked and moved forward, parting his lips over Scott's fingers, still watching him as he smiled at Stiles. Then, a low growl. Not a warning. Just a growl from the inside of Scott's throat. Stiles blinked. Scott's eyes were still hazel, but the growl was long and lustful and deep within Scott. "More," Scott said- no, demanded- and Stiles saw a flash of his teeth, sharp fangs tilting out from his gum. 

**Three**

"It says here that most Alphas develop stronger connections with their first betas, maybe that's why-

"No."

"What do you mean no? Let me finish," Stiles protested. They were in the locker room, it was emptying out as all the lacrosse players ran out into practice. Scott had been agitated all day, Stiles research on how to fix Scott's alpha-ness had driven them both to a dead-end path of dull conversations and awkward encounters. 

"I mean, it's wrong, and it's complicated."

"What?"

Scott threw his lacrosse bag onto the floor, picking up his shoulders to face search Stiles. "Your research is wrong, about the way I go on and off with my alpha-thing with you, maybe it's right about the control. Not the beta shit."

Stiles was still confused, his lips gestured another- _what?_ and Scott wanted to smile. it was so stupid how that was, they were both confused. Scott didn't even realise what he was trying to say, he wasn't paying attention to much of it. He wasn't thinking. So, he stopped trying. He dove forward, clawed his hands around Stiles' back and pressed them into each other's silhouettes. "This." Their lips touched, and their minds blew up like fireworks or what ever. Scott could feel the pain banging in his chest, he was transforming but at the same time he was in control. His tongue slid between Stiles' and he felt both weak and strong, and impossibly out and in of whatever control he had. _What?_ He felt that feeling before once. When he was a beta, and Stiles had picked him up with wolfsbane in his jeep. It had confused the werewolf and human parts of him altogether, unable to centre any of his thoughts. Stiles was wolfsbane, and maybe even everything else. Maybe he was vulnerable to more as an alpha, and to less at the same time. Stiles pulled away from him. "What?"

Scott flashed his eyes red, "Stop asking me unanswerable questions, and just-

"More."

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, go to [here, and enjoy it.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8866201)


End file.
